Of Plans and Destinations
by southern cross
Summary: The idea was crazy, she was coming to him, for touching and kissing and nothing more. Education and experience he was more than willing to offer. Tulie.


Yeah, so I started this as a smutty multi-chap because I am absolutely hooked on Tulie fic. It ended up smutty, angsty, smutty and a beast of a one shot. I hope you like it because I love writing for 33. I own nothing and mean no harm. Let me know what you think.

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How hard would it have been to walk away, to say no and have a laugh down the road at the crazy suggestion?

Not hard at all.

But then he was a Riggins and it was in his blood to do things the hard way.

"And you're sure about this?"

The whole arms crossed and pouty lip thing Julie Taylor was working on him, well, it was working.

"I told you already, like a hundred times, yes, I'm positive, sure, convinced, warned, ready, and totally OK about 'this'."

She was convincing, he could feel himself wavering, and she could too, that much he could tell by the slight rise in her eyebrows.

Couldn't let the power shift that way, no sir, he raked his eyes slowly down the length of her. Julie Taylor had the best cleavage in the county and the crossed arms made saliva pool under his tongue.

Forcing his eyes down, they took in a flat tummy, but there was softness there with none of the hard angles that some of rail thin rally girls jabbed him with.

He could imagine pressing a kiss there, dipping his tongue into her belly button and she would squirm and giggle, all real, all reactions untested.

Tim could only guess at her reactions when he dipped his tongue into even more delicious spots.

With an imagination that was thoroughly engaged in its new subject his attention wandered slowly back up until their eyes met.

And hot damn her blush was a thing to see.

The smirk was automatic.

"You see something you like?"

A brave girl, he knew it was a load of bullshit, her knuckles were white and she was chewing on her lip, but she was trying to give as good as she got and he liked that.

"I do," he liked that about her a lot.

If she wanted words she would have picked someone else, but he knew how to use the ones he had, slipped on that drawl, and flashed her that grin and she was backing away slowly.

Smart girl, but too little too late; his feet were already carrying him closer.

There was nowhere for her to go. He knew it; her back hit the wall and now she knew it.

"Tim," if she had been scared, really scared, he would have backed off. He was turned on, sure, and digging her squirming, but he was not a complete asshole.

No, he would have ended it, whatever it was, but it wasn't fear, real fear in her voice.

There was a hint of it, yes, but excitement and curiosity too. Her eyes had gone wide, her pupils dilating, and her breaths quick and shallow drawing his attention once again to her cleavage.

"You know if this is going to work," he moved directly in front of her, smirking down at her tilted up face, "I am going to have to get much, much closer."

They were already closer than they had ever been when not hiding from a natural disaster, or drunk, and they fit together real nice. Sliding a leg between her knees he nudged her legs apart until she spread them with a gasp, absently he remembered that she had been wearing a skirt, he had made note of her legs at lunch, and wondered just how far the small scrap of material had ridden up.

"Tim," her voice was already breathless, he grinned, she was going to have to work on her tolerance; he wouldn't mind helping her with that. Slowly, all of his movements were going to have to be slow with her at first, he put one hand on the wall next to her head, and the other went to her left hip.

He knew the picture they were making, knew that the coach's daughter was smoking hot and he wouldn't mind being seen with her at all.

Not that he thought anyone would know about them, in fact it was a point he wanted to clarify, "So, Jules," he chuckled softly as she blinked, her eyes having closed as his thumb had begun to make little circles on her hip, "do I have your attention?"

The glare made him laugh, Julie Taylor had some spunk, her eyebrow rose as his laugh rumbled between them, "good, you didn't mention if we were going public with this little experiment," he let her blush rise and the chuckled at the first sputters of her thoughts trying to compete, "breathe Taylor, I wasn't talking about uploading shit to YouTube," admittedly making a video with her would be hot though.

He considered the chances of getting her to actually make one to be slim, not zero, and he could work with that.

"Um, well, I guess it would make it easier," and that was how Tim found himself with a new girlfriend.

The news had rocked Dillon.

Her father had been shocked, her mother vocal, but they had both begrudgingly welcomed him to the very next chili night. The groundwork was important, if he wanted the time and opportunity to teach Julie properly he would have to play nice for Coach and Mrs. Coach.

Admittedly there was a part of him that was terrified at the thought of what they were up to getting back to the Coach. His exposure to parents had been limited to Buddy Garrity's drunken barbecue's but he was fairly certain fathers didn't like fake boyfriends coming around with the sole purpose of educating their daughters in the best way to have great sex.

And up until this point there had been very little sex.

There had been handholding; Julie had very discreetly taken his hand after lunch and her hand been soft and he hadn't pulled his own away. It had sort of become a thing after that.

There had been kissing; that much he had insisted upon before school, behind the art building, and after football practice before her dad dragged himself out of the office.

But beyond that there had been little time alone for them to get in any real practicing. And he was more than ready for some, "if you and I are doing this, than you and nobody else is," her condition had been iron clad, and he had been hooked enough on the pouty lips to agree.

Besides she had sworn that if he strayed than so would she and he was not digging the thought of her lips or hands on anyone else; the thought of it down right pissed him off.

"I was thinking we might slip away from the party early Friday," everyone partied after a football game, the Taylors included so her parents would be distracted.

Julie grinned at him, all trust and teeth and he wondered not for the first time what the hell he was doing, "Sure."

He might be going to hell for this but he couldn't wait for Friday to get here.

They went driving, she had not once complained about his tendency to drive without destination. Dillon was not a place where there was much to do and Tim had little use for just sitting still inside, so he drove, and she had started going with.

"Any place special we're headed," she asked, he glanced over at her, shooting her a smile.

"I had a place in mind," he figured she would get a kick out of going to a make out point.

He had been correct.

"It's so beautiful," she grinned at him over her shoulder. He snorted beautiful was not what he would have called the view; it was more dirt and dying grass, but she saw something in it, just as she had seen something in him.

"What" she reached for his hand. He hadn't realized he had been frowning.

Recovering quickly he pulled her close, "Didn't think I would have to compete with the view for your attention."

She laughed, "I think you've got my attention."

Damn right.

"Come here," he had done a little planning, brought a clean blanket. Opening the tailgate he spread it on the bed of his truck, turning he saw she was staring at him with wide eyes.

His girl was a great big bundle of nerves, "I thought we could try something."

She nodded, "Something."

That brain of hers had to hurt sometimes the way the wheels were always turning, he rolled his eyes, "Just something Jules, relax."

Helping her into the truck he sat his back resting against the cab, her hands were twisted in her lap, his heart tugged uncomfortably in his chest. That wasn't supposed to happen. They were just playing at the couple thing. There was no reason her nerves would make him nervous, or her concern for his grades had improved his GPA, or he had been at her house every night and weekend since they got together, or any of the other hundred things that had changed that were never part of their agreement.

"Tim," she was looking at him again, this time the concern was clear. He was being an idiot.

"Sorry," he murmured taking her hand he pulled her close, distracting her with a kiss as he eased her onto his lap. With her on top he had free reign to touch, and he wanted to touch, and see.

Kissing across her cheek, pausing at her ear, "I want to touch you," he whispered. Cupping her breasts he squeezed, swallowing thickly at her gasp, but there was more.

"I want to see you Jules," he pulled back enough so she could look at him; see his eyes, his intent. With Julie Taylor he had found patience inside he hadn't known existed, and he would wait this time and every other time.

"OK," thankfully he wouldn't have to wait long.

Smiling he kissed her deep, his tongue sliding against hers. Slipping his hands under the hem of the tank top she wore, it was pale pink and had thin straps, he had asked her once how the damn thing even stayed on, her skin was smooth and warm under his palms.

At the contact she rocked back and her ass rocked deliciously against his cock, he couldn't help the groan, "Damn girl."

Their kiss broken, he looked into her shocked eyes and smiled. Clearly she hadn't considered their position or the effect she had on him; which got him wondering.

"You do know that my dick is hard because of your smooth skin and wet lips," the strangled gasp clearly meant she hadn't considered it, he smirked.

Tugging up her shirt she absently lifted her hands, "I have imagined this since I saw you at that dance thing," her breasts were cupped in more pink, lace this time, and his dick twitched in his pants. He was going to make a mess of himself before this night was over; he smiled.

"Best damn breasts in Texas," he muttered glancing up at her, it literally pained him to look away, _pink fucking lace_, but her eyes were dark and she was biting her lip.

Oh she was so into 'something'.

Still watching her he slid his hands slowly up her sides, fingers tripping over each rib, she sucked in a sharp breath when his thumbs brushed the underside of each breast, "Tim."

And it was his turn to gasp, never, not once had he ever heard his name said _like that_, like it was everything ever and it made his whole body shudder.

Gritting his teeth, before his stupid voice said something stupid, he looked back at the task at hand.

"Front clasp, beautiful Taylor," he parted the plastic and slowly pulled the fabric apart. They both released a breath when the straps slipped off her shoulder, no girl had ever taken his breath away, "Damn."

He looked up at her, "You're fucking beautiful," the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. No one had ever seen her like this, no one, his fingers slid slowly over the soft skin.

"Oh," she gasped her nipples puckering and hardening as he rolled his thumbs over them.

"You like that," he asked, he wanted to know, to memorize everything that made her smile, groan, scream.

"Uh huh," her eyes were closed her head tilted back just enough that she looked wild, abandoned.

He had done that to her, for her, and he was just getting started.

Anticipating the movement his hands went her to waist, the following yelp was epic and she did jump, but his grip was firm and his lips were wrapped her nipple; she wasn't going anywhere.

"OH My God," she moved a hand to his shoulder, the other inched into his hair.

The noises she made every time he licked, bit or sucked a new bit of skin got a bit addicting. His hands had moved to her ass keeping her firmly in his lap, they began to find their rhythm.

Something was turning into something else.

He wasn't big on plans.

"Tim, what," she had that question in her voice, she didn't know what was coming and he couldn't believe he was going to take her there, now.

Rocking harder he wondered if he was going there too, "Jules," yeah, he so was.

He cupped a breast, squeezing hard, she groaned, he smiled into the hickey he was leaving in a most provocative spot. She would kill him for that later.

"I'm, it's," he didn't know if she even knew what was coming, he figured she touched herself.

"Fuck," not the image he needed if he was going to last as long as her.

He rocked harder, faster, bit skin and tugged at swollen parts until her fingers were curling into his shoulders and she croaked out a scratchy, "Tim." The look on her face was the most amazing thing he might have ever seen, it killed him.

Patience be damned, his hands went to her ass and he jerked her close, hard, once twice, his head pressed against the slick skin between her breasts, a third final thrust and he came fucking hard.

Lights exploded behind closed eyes.

Fuck.

He hadn't come in his pants, since, well forever.

Julie was smiling at him, he couldn't help but smile back, still dazed at what had happened.

"I made you come," she blushed, he grinned. He couldn't wait to see that expression on her face again.

With a smack to his shoulder that made her tits sway, he could advocate violence against his person at all times in the future if she was topless, she reminded him "I made you come."

His sassy little Taylor, he laughed, "That you did Taylor. Well done. You're welcome to repeat that any time."

She grinned, and leaned down to kiss him, he was pleased that she didn't seem to mind her nudity at all, and he was certainly not going to complain.

He made it his mission after that night to get her to grin like him like that often.

Oh and topless, lots and lots of topless Julie was a must.

Lines began to blur after that Friday night, the urgency with which her education was supposed to go slowed. Julie had never mentioned how long he had to get her up to snuff, but he had never thought it would be two weeks before Christmas and they would still be 'together'.

Little Taylor had kept his attention longer than any girl he had ever been with. Lyla had been a fluke, never really his and the chase had been the draw, he could admit that now.

There was no chase with Julie, she had come to him, continued to come to him and for him he smirked. Fingers fisting his thoughts slipped back to last night, the ten minute detour they had taken after he had picked her up from work.

A productive use of his time she had groaned and then moaned as he had slipped one than two fingers inside of her. The girl was fucking meth, a small taste and he was hooked.

Hooked, Tim Riggins was hooked on the girl. Being hooked on any girl was new; the thought had come to him this morning as he was jerking off in the shower. No other face or tits or ass could make him come by own hand anymore; just her face her body her fucking lips.

Adjusting in the driver's seat his cock woke right the fuck up at the thought of Julie Taylor lips.

Getting her educated had been the plan, the offer, a bit of free fun for him in return. That was the plan. He didn't feel particularly free right now.

That irritation had carried him from afternoon into evening; he had ignored the shock and hurt in her voice when he had blown off their study session. Essays and cheesy SyFy movies had never been in the plan, how many nights had he killed in just that way?

Irritation turned nasty and he didn't say no when Billy mentioned whiskey and strippers.

He should have said no.

He knew he should have said no.

He didn't.

"You went to the strip club," the disbelief in her voice was shocking, he was 33 of course he passed a night with strippers.

He shrugged.

The hurt in her eyes, the flinch when he she realized he was telling the truth made him want to puke, "But I thought-"

Her words fell apart.

That killed him more than the arms she wrapped around her waist or the tears that were forming in her eyes, Julie Taylor always had words.

He had taken them from her.

The shame in him swelled.

Stepping back the space widening between them he wasn't equipped for this, he wasn't hooked, he wasn't hers, it was fake; it was all supposed to be fake,

"Whatever, I don't know why you're nagging me," her eyes went wide, her jaw dropped and he knew he should have just shut his fucking mouth.

"Excuse me. I'm nagging you. Seriously, you're the one who spent the night with tits and ass in your face."

The temper he could deal with, he might have even breathed in relief.

"Did you fuck them?"

The question was shouldn't have surprised him; it had.

Hadn't they promised? Hadn't he given his word that there wouldn't be anyone else if there was her? Her doubt was a kick to the gut.

The words spit out before he could stop them, "I should have. It's not like you're my real girl."

Her hand to his face was expected.

Another one and he welcomed the pain.

Of course he shouldn't have gone last night looking and smiling and smirking was a kind of betrayal and he had given his word.

Julie was more real to him than anyone had ever been; ever.

"I hope it was worth it," her voice was cold and her eyes wouldn't meet his.

Stupidly he watched her walk away and it was only after she was gone that he realized she had left.

Word of their break-up spread like wildfire.

A haze had surrounded him in the hallways that first day. He couldn't quite understand how they could have broken up when they hadn't really been together.

By Friday night, his gut was hollow and his head body was twisted into knots.

"You're an asshole Tim," Tyra punched him in the shoulder; hard.

He knew it, "I know it."

Not once had he gone and tried to explain, to say sorry, she had walked away and he had followed. He was a fucking coward and he knew it, "I know it."

Tyra snorted, "You know I told her not to do it."

"What it," his confusion cutting through the ache in his chest.

"The girl got it in her head that she wanted you."

His eyes went wide.

"I advised her against it, but she insisted, came up with some complicated plan, the particulars of which you know."

Her offer, her plan, "Wait, what?"

Tyra rolled her eyes, "You Tim she wanted you and went about getting you the wrong way, thought she had you and then you went and fucked it up."

He had, but shit, "Why didn't she say-"

"-Say what Tim, that she had a thing for you? You would have laughed then run, or run then smirked."

Shit.

"Why are you here now," Tyra wouldn't have said anything to make him feel better.

"She was stupid to give you her heart without telling you and then you broke it," his breath caught, "I think you might want her heart whole and yours."

She cut her eyes towards him and smirked, "I think you want her for yourself."

He did, fuck yes he did.

He was an easy read, "That's what I thought. So Julie being heart-broken and prone to making disastrous decisions," his stomach rolled over.

It was Friday night and Tyra was here with him, "Where is she?"

The anger in his voice was tangible with wide eyes Tyra explained, "I was going to get her, but I thought you might-"

This was going to be bad; he knew it, "Where the fuck is she?"

"She went to a party in Milton with the Swede."

The rooms were packed with bodies, college aged and drunk, he knocked more than one frat boy on his ass.

His temper had peaked outside Dillon. Pain had radiated from his knuckles, the dent in the roof of the cab was fist sized but focus had come.

Moving into another room, he saw the flash of blonde. Of course she would be where the music was loudest, where the bodies were twisting in dance.

He should have known.

Her skirt was too short and her neckline too revealing. He bit back a groan as she dipped her knees and rocked her hips against the taller _girl_ she was dancing with.

He hadn't thought she could be any hotter. All thoughts and cares and worries dissolved in the face of her fucking grinding against another female.

The tempo changed, slowed, her movements eased into dirtier places. He had been there with her before.

His feet moved.

He would be the only fucking one going there with her again.

Dancing wasn't his thing, she had tried, God how she had pleaded, he had stayed firm.

Falling into rhythm behind her was easy, this wasn't dancing, this was fucking and that he knew.

Brown eyes met his and the girl with the skin the color of almonds grinned stepping closer until Julie was tit to tit, ass to cock between them.

Arms rising above her head, he caught them easily and wrapped them around his neck, his body was responding to her skin so close after a week being apart.

Never again, "Jules," he breathed into her hair.

The music was deafening, he felt it pounding in his blood, didn't matter, she heard him her body jerking as she twisted her neck. Their eyes met, her eyes were full, pain and lust but no alcohol.

His breath came easier.

His body rocking closer to hers, his hand slid between them cupping her cheek accidently brushing the tears he hadn't known were falling, "I didn't touch or fuck them. I swear."

Leaning close he kissed her temple, the arms around his neck tightened; hers.

A hand gripped his waist, cupped his ass; not hers.

"It wasn't worth it," he knew she heard him, her hands twisted painfully into his hair.

Lips ran across her forehead; not his.

Moans accompanied rough rocking of hips; his.

The plot was disappearing in between them. His head was heavy, he didn't know if he was holding her up or she was keeping him from collapsing.

Again the beat changed, the beats speeding up, their movements flowed following, faster and harder.

The moment was on him, he knew it, felt it, grabbed it, "You're real Jules, all real all mine."

Not smooth not pretty but the words were his and they were hers and she shuddered against him, twisting in his arms, reaching for him. She came to him without hesitation.

Her lips against his, he groaned and picked her up. The kiss was messy, the moment perfect.

She was his.

His; in every way, all ways.

Their partner laughed warm and rich her arms wrapping around them in goodbye. He felt a kiss press to the corner of their lips where their mouths were joined.

The sensory overload almost undid him.

Unwilling to let go, he carried her back through the rooms; a part of him knew she had come here with someone and wanted a loud voice in his face. He would punish that fuck for going anywhere with his girl.

They made it outside without incident.

He pressed her against his truck his hand stinging as it caught between her spine and the metal.

She looked up at him, there were questions in her eyes, there would need to be words he knew it braced for them.

Clarity, confirmation, punishment, he was ready for them all.

"You want me?"

The disbelief undid him.

"Are you fucking kidding me," he glared down at her. She was most definitely not kidding.

"Jules," he didn't know what to say, didn't know why she wanted him, she could have anyone. Should have anyone else, but she wanted him, it didn't make sense.

So he told her that all of it, word for word, and she stared up at him with big wet eyes. Maybe she wasn't the only one who had words.

"Do you want me?" he asked her.

Now it was her turn to be profane with her surprise, "Of course I want you and no one else," she grinned and he felt his whole body unwind.

Damn right, "Than you've got me."

Their reunion had been all the gossip Monday morning.

Christmas Eve he had crashed on the floor under the Taylor Christmas tree. Julie had snuck out of bed to snuggle up next to him.

Her three words under the lights had been the best Christmas present he could remember getting.

He had said them back without hesitation, surprising himself and making her cry.

New Years Eve he had gone to her with his own plan. Tyra had helped, covering for them both.

There had been touching and kissing and pain, just a little bit, but she had smiled and told him it was OK and he had believed her.

They moved as well together in sex as they did in everything else.

Nothing, _nothing_, had ever felt so good.

He told her so.

Two hours later he told her again.

Smirking as she collapsed onto the bed next to him exhausted his girl was an eager student and he was a hell of a teacher; he was Tim Riggins after all.

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A/N: He's not perfect. A raunchy boy who will mess up and lash out, but if he got his head on straight he would be one hell of a catch. She's not perfect. Loves to go about things the hard way, until it's almost too late, but with a genuinely good heart. Together they could be amazing. I wish the show would have picked up on that. I hope that even with their flaws in this fic you enjoyed their journey, please hit the little button and let me know!


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